Money
by Mark W. Tiedemann
I'd intended to do a piece about something
other than current politics, but the Supreme Court surprised me and I find
myself wishing to applaud their decision. They upheld the McCain-Feingold
campaign finance reform law.
How refreshing, in this money-drenched period,
to hear something that says No to corporate power. Because that's
what this is. Campaign finance reform is so important because corporations
threaten to supplant elected government by virtue of their financial muscle
and virtual immortality.
It's entirely understandable why corporate
America thinks that money is the equivalent of speech. It's their
language, after all. It's the only thing they understand. You
have to translate all other languages into fiscalese before a board of
directors can comprehend them. So when it was suggested that maybe
campaign contributions have become a source of immense distortional power
in public life, they of course recoiled at the suggestion. A violation
of their first amendment rights, they claimed. A curtailment of speech.
Two things about that. The first is
rather theoretical, but if you follow the thread of logic, it holds.
In order to test that hypothesis, you have to ask if money is a universal
form of speech. If, in fact, everyone uses it to express political
opinion. You must then ask if without money the same opinions can
be expressed. Then you have to ask that if money is necessary for
a particular form of politic opinion, then do those without money suffer
an infringement of their first amendment rights because they are effectively
mute?
We limit speech. Speech is free in this
country until it infringes someone else's freedoms or rights. Slander
and liable are actionable--speech, yes, but not legal. No one seriously
argues that the first amendment protects anyone from the consequences of
either crime. That's an infringement of speech, of course.
We accept it. Lying under certain circumstances--i.e. in a courtroom
under oath--is also not protected under the first amendment. Incitement
to riot is also controlled. So there is ample precedent for controlling
specific forms of speech.
Speech itself, as an abstract concept, is
not controlled. By changing context, even otherwise actionable forms
of speech can still be deployed--say, as satire, or fiction, or editorial.
Besides, the framers of the constitution meant
political speech. They left it intentionally vague, however, because
they understood how any kind of speech can become political under the right
circumstances--hence the legitimate defense of pornography, since prosecution
of people for their private lives is certainly political, not to mention
censorship as a means of controlling those private lives (and just to make
the point most clearly, at the beginning of this century information about
sex and birth control distributed by doctors for public health purposes
was designated as pornography, which certainly had profound political consequences).
Money--or lack thereof--would seem to qualify
therefore as something which becomes political under certain circumstances.
Indeed it has, but not as speech. Which brings me to my second point
about it.
Money paid to politicians has been traditionally
considered bribery. Which is also illegal and actionable. Under
the current byzantine system of political parties, the fact that dollars
funnel through organizations more than to individual candidates is immaterial.
The money sets up a de facto quid pro quo because it defines a constituency,
often one that has more clout than voters. A given candidate owes
the party for his or her election and the party owes the largest contributors.
This must be, lest those contributors will go elsewhere next time.
And that's where the problem of corporate
power becomes acute.
In this modern age, corporations are legally
people. There are a number of legal reasons for this. The practice
of designating them as such started in the 1890s, during the heyday of
the Trusts, which gave rise to the Progressive campaign to bust them up
and limit corporate power. I won't go into the reasons for corporate
personhood. We live with it, it has become part of our public life.
But it has had some annoying consequences.
The main problem with corporations is that
they are not, despite the legal definition, A Person. Common sense
tells us this, but when one suggests that they abide by the same laws as
an individual, then the corporate person can go into court and demand rights--a
demand fueled by far more money and resource than any Average Individual.
We see the results of this in environmental disputes which pit a single
landowner against a corporation.
The corporation as we know it has more of
everything. Time, money, capacity. You as an individual cannot
know everything--a corporation has a staff or several staffs of people
who know everything collectively. You as an individual must stop
work to eat and sleep. Corporations can deploy their employees in
shifts, therefore functioning without the need to stop. Perhaps this
sounds trivial, but over time it becomes a monstrous advantage.
But the worst part of all this is when the
corporation declares itself a Citizen. "What's good for General Motors
is good for the country," Sloan said back in the Fifties. No one
really questioned it, because the corporation was seen as an American asset.
It was a citizen, just like you and me, and bound by the same laws.
Theoretically.
Not, however, bound by the same limits.
So when General Motors suddenly did things
that were not good for the country, we ran smack dab into the difficulty
of managing a huge system that pretended to be an individual in the eyes
of the law and claimed citizenship along with you and I.
A corporate citizen is, in fact, more equal
than you or I. If we as individuals dumped toxic waste into a local
stream, there's no doubt we'd spend time in jail. How do you put
a corporation in jail? Our lives would be interrupted to face the
consequences of our actions. Corporations continue much as they were.
A fine, maybe, but first the crime has to be proven, and often the corporation--through
money and influence--can thwart that process.
Besides having comparatively unlimited resources,
the corporation has one other advantage over people--potential immortality.
A corporation has no natural lifespan. Given care and cleverness
and enough resource, it can live for centuries. This bestows enormous
advantage over mere humans.
These factors alone would seem to make it
desirable that corporate involvement in politics be severely limited.
But we now come to the central issue of this piece, which is
Money.
Is money speech? And if so, should the
government do what it can to guarantee our access to it?
Not guarantee our opportunities to access,
but guarantee access. Guarantee that everyone has it.
See, money can be hoarded. You can't
really do that with speech. You can't take words out of circulation
and hide them away so others can't have them. But money, you can.
Corporations can not only gather up large
sums of money, they can act to limit what others have. They can dictate
who gets it and who doesn't it. Not efficiently, mind you, because
corporations compete, but it doesn't have to be done efficiently to have
an awesome effect.
Money has a limited utility as well.
It does not meet the requirement of speech because it communicates nothing.
It is only useful for acquisition. When you give money to a politician,
it tells the politician nothing. It merely acquires the politician.
Which brings us to the question of constituency.
If a thousand people who can only raise ten dollars apiece contribute to
a political campaign--that's ten thousand dollars--should not their voices
be the more important than the single contributor who gives ten thousand
dollars? Or ten individuals who give ten thousand apiece? A
thousand voices, in a democracy, trumps ten voices. Yet it is the
hundred thousand dollars that commands political loyalty. In actual
speech, my words are the same words as those spoken by a millionaire--or
a corporation (which really can't say anything, because the personhood
of a corporation is not biological, but a legal fiction to smooth the way
through certain ambiguities of public commerce and litigation). The
same vocabulary is available to both of us and therefore offers an equivalence
which money, by its nature, is designed to deny.
This is a silly argument--the only reason
it hasn't been settled long ago is because those most vested in seeing
it kept unsettled are those who are most aware that their argument is fallacious.
Money is not speech. It cannot be speech. Not in a democracy,
wherein equality before the law must be maintained regardless of social
status or bank account.
McCain-Feingold doesn't go nearly far enough,
but it's a good start. And it's nice to be able to see at least sometimes
one of our governmental institutions exhibit the kind of common sense that
often passes for wisdom.